


Take Care

by thomasclementine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blood Kink, Bottom Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Bruises, Come Sharing, Dirty Talk, First Time, First Time Bottoming, NSFW, Oral Sex, Rimming, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Top Sam, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 19:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3458492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thomasclementine/pseuds/thomasclementine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What do you really think this is about, genius? I didn't come here and go through all the work of getting to Sam just to fuck you, although you're damn pretty. Truth is, I'm a romantic at cold, dead heart. And you're not the only one with a big gay crush on your brother. Sure, I'm gonna ride his ass for a few days. But what happens after that is on him. If he comes back to you, maybe it was meant to be, or whatever. Either way, my job here is done. See you around.”</p><p>Sam is possessed by a demon who forces the brothers to confront the feelings they never wanted to admit to.<br/>Written for the Supernatural Kink Big Bang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Care

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mini bang, and my first time ever writing for a challenge! I hope you guys enjoy it.  
> Warning: this story may include elements of dubcon because of a demonic possession and sex that ensues. If that's triggering to you, please tread carefully!  
> My Supernatural blog is here: tricksterally.tumblr.com

Dean unlocked the motel room door and stepped over the threshold, broken salt line going unnoticed for a moment while he was focusing on not dropping the grocery bags in his arms more than anything else. “Hey, Sammy, I got you that apple juice you asked-”

Before he could finish the sentence the bags dropped to floor and he was being dragged, by some invisible force, up the motel room wall. Sam was lying shirtless on his bed eyeing Dean like...like he was a piece of meat. When Dean's head banged against the ceiling he stopped moving, suspended in place, and found his voice again. “Son of a bitch! Sam! What the fuck is going on?!”

Sam leaned forward slowly, stretching his arms, and smiled so sinister, it twisted Dean's stomach just to look at him. “Hey, Dean. Miss me? Oh, wait..we haven't met. Yet.” His eyes flooded with black, and suddenly, Dean thought, things were starting to make a whole lot more sense.  
Dean outright growled, furious that a demon was taking advantage of his brother, again.  
“I thought we got rid of you? How did you come back?”

The demon laughed, and it was so irritating that Dean wanted to chuck the bottle of apple juice straight at its face before exorcising it to hell. After other, much more painful things. But that would mean hurting Sammy..

“If by that you mean the last demon that rode this hot piece of ass? Yeah, you probably did. But I heard Sam's just a bucket of fun. I couldn't resist a chance for myself.” The demon rolled Sam's eyes and stood up, crossing the room to where Dean was still suspended and lowered him down so they were nearly at eye level, with Dean just slightly levitating off the floor. “He's swell, but I didn't come for Sam. I came for you.”

With that the demon grabbed Dean by the throat, pulling him into a crushing kiss. Dean screamed and tried to move, but he was still very much bound to the wall. After a few moments, the demon pulled away and snarled, gripping Dean by the hair at the nape of his neck and yanking down hard. “Listen to me, you fucking bonehead. The better you cooperate, the faster and less painful this will be for everyone, myself included. Your twisted moral compass is giving your brother and I a headache so play with me, indulge me, and I'll make it fun for you. I promise. Besides...”

The demon looked away as if considering something, and then looked back and smiled softly, letting Sam's eyes clear again. “You can't honestly tell me you haven't wanted it.” The demon slammed a hand over Dean's mouth before he could protest, muffling his shouts of indignation, rolling Sam's eyes. “Shut. Up. You think I don't know the way you think about him? You're hopeless, codependent, and desperately in love. I bet you would've taken him to the prom if incest wasn't what humans get so worked up about. I'm giving you something you've always wanted.” The demon brushed Dean's cheek with Sam's nose softly, before cooing into his ear, “Be grateful”.

With that, he released Dean from the wall and threw him onto the nearest bed, stalking over like a predator and ripping Dean's flannel off, buttons hitting the floor and scattering everywhere. When it went to work on Dean's pants Dean pleaded softly, almost too quietly to hear, “Please, don't”.  
“Sorry, honey, I don't do special requests. Now open up.”

Dean bit back words that might get him or more importantly, Sam, hurt and did as he was told. The demon shoved Sam's long, thick cock into his mouth and he nearly choked on it, gagging heavily before getting used to having something so big thrusting down his throat. Dean wasn't sure how to give a blowjob, and he sure as hell didn't give a shit about making the demon feel good, but he'd do anything he could to keep it from being even more of a terrible experience for Sammy so he opened as wide as he could and tried to avoid scraping with his teeth as the demon fucked his face. He was glad he did the moment the demon yanked his head back by the hair and groaned. “You're better at this than I thought you would be. But that's not all I'm getting from you.” He pulled Dean up by the shirt and roughly tossed him onto his stomach on the bed, pulling his pants off with all black eyes. “You're lucky I'm in such a good mood today, Winchester”.

He, she, or whatever it was in Sam's body went to work on Dean's clothes, ripping his shirt and shoes away and pulling his belt from his pants, then tying his arms up with it, which was something Dean had feared from the start. Being immobilized in the same room as a demon was almost never a good thing. Apparently his body didn't agree, though, evidenced by the way his cock twitched with interest as he strained against the bonds holding his arms, knowing he wouldn't get free. Before he had time to think about it too much the demon was stalking across the small room to Sam's duffel, where he pulled out a bottle of lube before pouncing back on top of Dean's writhing body. Sam's large form covered Dean completely, making him feel small and submissive in a way he hadn't in a long, long time. While Dean struggled to think of something that wouldn't send any more blood rushing south he was stripped of his pants and boxers and pulled up roughly onto his arms and knees, Sam's tongue flicking lightly at his perineum before large hands spread his ass open. 

Within a minute Dean was writhing and stifling moans into the bedsheets as Sam's tongue flicked against his hole and pushed past the ring of muscle inside, working his tight, virgin hole open into a wet mess. He'd never been rimmed before, never had anyone that close to his ass and was desperately trying to hate it, but the precome dripping from his leaking cock probably gave him away.

“Come on sweetheart, make some noise for me. I bet your little Sammy's just dying to hear you..”  
The demon laughed before punctuating its' statement with a hard smack to Dean's ass, causing him to yelp and squirm on the bed underneath Sam's towering form.  
“Bite me, you son of a bitch”.  
The demon laughed again, hollow and empty of emotion this time, and simply quipped “Sure, why not” before bending over and sinking Sam's teeth into the soft, sensitive skin of Dean's shoulder. The crunch was painfully audible as skin and cartilage gave way and Dean muffled a bitten off scream, his body ready to explode and on the verge of giving out all at once.

Sam's mouth and tongue was still working at the open bite when the demon used his left hand to hold Dean's hip in a bruising grip, the fingers from the right slicked up with lube working at his hole. First just one, then two, twisting quickly. Before Dean had had much time to get used to the unfamiliar sensation of long fingers inside of him they were gone, and the demon was pulling Dean back onto Sam's lap. The head of Sam's cock pushed into Dean's hole and he gasped, trying to wriggle away from the unfamilar shock. When he twisted around he caught the sight in the mirror on the adjacent wall, over the sink near the bathroom. He saw Sam's mouth covered in blood, teeth bared, his eyes flickering between human and demon. Then he saw himself, covered in scratches and newly formed bruises, his hole stretched, sinking onto his baby brothers' thick cock inch by inch.

The demon pushed the rest of the length in without warning and Dean came with a shout, shaking and whimpering, warm come spurting out of his cockhead before Sam's hand swiped it up. The demon licked it off before whispering in his ear “If you come just from sitting on Sammy's cock I wonder how it'll feel when I fuck you with it.”

Sam's hips slam into Dean rough and deep, causing the bed's wooden headboard to crack against the wall again and again. Post orgasm and without muscle cooperation Dean took it, trying and failing not to make anymore noise as the demon kept running a string of filth into his ear, dirty things he'd never thought he'd hear in Sammy's voice in his wildest dreams. “You like getting fucked by your baby brother, Dean? Bet you'd never think your vanilla little brother would give it to you like this. You're gonna feel it for a week. We're gonna make it so you can't walk straight after tonight..”

Dean winced, gripping the bedsheets and squeezing his eyes shut tight. He'd started dissociating as a teenager after a traumatic hunting experience and even though it wasn't fun or conducive to a healthy lifestyle, he all but prayed for it now. He never wanted to tell Sam about his more than brotherly feelings for him, and now, he's getting fucked by the demon who outed him. In Sam's body. He didn't really see how things could get much worse.

He had barely registered the loud moan from his bedmate before warmth spread through him, Sam's come starting to leak out of his hole as the demon pulled out. Dean shifted to his side slowly, carefully, not interested in moving his injured body too much. He watched as the demon casually got dressed and began grabbing things at random – Sam's wallet, the Impala keys, a bottle of tequila, among others – before turning on Dean sharply, assessing him critically with black eyes.

“Why so mopey, Dean? Looks like I broke you.”  
Dean fought back the response he wanted to give – yelling, a beating, an exorcism, anything volatile – and simply replied quietly “I never wanted to lose Sam”. He didn't make eye contact with the demon. He didn't see the point.

“What do you really think this is about, genius? I didn't come here and go through all the work of getting to Sam just to fuck you, although you're damn pretty. Truth is, I'm a romantic at cold, dead heart. And you're not the only one with a big gay crush on your brother. Sure, I'm gonna ride his ass for a few days. But what happens after that is on him. If he comes back to you, maybe it was meant to be, or whatever. Either way, my job here is done. See you around.”

Dean's eyes snapped to attention when the demon's words registered, his body nearly off the bed despite the pain, but the demon was gone, the door slammed behind him. He heard the Impala moving away at reckless speed before his cell phone vibrated.  
A message from Sam's phone - “If you're smart you won't follow. Put your brother first.” Barely resisting the urge to slam his phone into the mirror over the sink, he didn't reply. 

He didn't want anything to do with himself. What if the demon had been lying, and Sam didn't really love him? Or what if he did, but he didn't come back to him anyways?  
What if the demon killed Sam when it was done with his body?

Dean covered the mirror with the sheet from one of the beds, and vomited up the contents of his stomach. Then he laid down on the other bed and stayed there for a long time, for hours. Not sleeping, or even able to sleep, no noise, nothing. Just blank emptiness, and a void where there used to be hope. The blood dried and the bruises bloomed over his body as the hours ticked by. The only thing that prompted him to move was the sun shining through the curtains the next morning. He called the motel's office, to politely request two more nights. He used the cellular phone company's online tracking system to locate Sam, or at least, his phone. Three hundred miles away. He drank a cup of tap water and ate one of the apples he had bought for Sam, fighting to keep it down, before getting back into bed and staying there.

The next morning, the sunlight casting through the curtains is what woke him, although he didn't recall ever falling to sleep, nor did he feel better, or rested. The bruises on his stomach, hips, and legs were a deep blue and purple mix, and the dried blood from the shoulder bite he never cleaned was beginning to flake off of the surrounding skin. He pulled on sweats and a plain t-shirt in an attempt to cover what he didn't want to see. Then he pulled one of Sam's old sweatshirts on. It smelled like happiness. 

Night came, and he turned on the television, the sudden sound jarring. He turned it nearly all the way down and watched for a while as lions fought for their kill in a nature documentary, before going back to sleep.

After that, he started losing track of time. He didn't even feel like a person anymore, without his car, without his brother, without anyone or anything at all. He called to the office again to order more nights. He ate the granola bars Sam always stashed in his duffle. He left the television on, on the same channel, all the time. He checked Sam's phone tracker compulsively, his only connection to anything that felt real, even though he didn't want it to be – 500 miles away, then 250, then 600. On what might have been the fourth morning alone he sat in the bathtub while water poured over him, then scrubbed his skin, wearing away at a bar of soap for nearly an hour, even though it hurt. Especially because it hurt. The bruises were beginning to fade, but the bite mark still felt fresh. He washed the dried blood off, watching it wash down the drain as he drank from a bottle of whiskey.

He heard what sounded distinctively like the Impala as he sat down with Sam's laptop to check the cellular tracker again, and dismissed it. Over active imagination, or something, it must have been. Wishful thinking, right? Until a knock on the motel room door rang out, loud and clear as a bell. Dean scrambled to open the door and there he was, his wonderful, intelligent, caring, selfless little brother, standing on the other side of the threshold, looking more miserable than he had ever been in his life.

His hoodie was ripped and stained with blood, as well as the knees of his jeans. His face looked worse, with a purple bruise high on his cheek bone and a split lip, only partially healed.  
“Can I come in?”


End file.
